


Here

by HareBrained



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Based on that famous scene!, Boys Kissing, Derek is Indiana Jones, Hurt Derek, Hurt/Comfort, Indiana Jones - Freeform, M/M, Making Out, Stiles is Marion Ravenwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 21:16:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1956417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HareBrained/pseuds/HareBrained
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Indiana Jones AU/Fusion where Derek is Indy and Stiles is Marion.</p>
<p>“Jeez, Derek.  Is there actually anywhere that doesn't hurt?” Stiles snaps, sitting back.</p>
<p>Slowly, Derek points to the tip of his left elbow, eyes watching Stiles’ face, looking for a reaction. “Here.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here

**Author's Note:**

> Based my favourite scene from the Indiana Jones movies, and the idea just kind of ran away from me.
> 
> I changed some of the lines so they weren't an exact replica of the movie, though the word "here" remains the same, obviously.

Derek is lying down, back propped up by the numerous cushions surrounding him, providing the little support that they can.

The cabin is small, yet functional. In the corner in the room sits a large mirror, pushed to the side amidst the bedding and the odd pieces of cargo found there. It wasn’t luxury, but this was the kind of conditions Derek was used to on his adventures, and he had learned to deal with it.

With each rock of the boat, his stomach lurches. After another roll, he clutches his arm, hoping to steady himself against the pain of his injured shoulder, the sloppily placed bandages soft against his hand. Off to the side, blood dries on the arrow once embedded in muscle and sinew.

Screeching, the cabin door opens, allowing Stiles to step inside. He looks frazzled and a little tired, but otherwise okay, Derek is pleased to notice. He hadn’t anticipated Stiles to come with him but the younger man was stubborn and determined, so naturally he wanted a piece of the action. He wasn’t bad company, Derek supposed, it was always good to have someone watching your back

Derek watches as Stiles wanders behind the mirror, only to appear the other side right in front of him. He can hear Stiles muttering under his breath, no doubt cursing and clucking at Derek’s reckless behaviour throughout the day. Perhaps even his own decision to follow Derek. Perhaps both.

Soon enough, Stiles begins to fret over Derek’s wounds. His hands flutter across his ribs, removing the bandages and checking the injury. Though the action looks light and gentle, the actual touches are more than a little firm, making Derek grit his teeth.

Derek remembers Stiles from all those years ago, when Stiles wore his heart on his sleeve and worshipped Derek like a hero. Now that he can take the time to observe Stiles, he notices how much he has grown out of his boyish features, maturing into someone – a man - brave and dependable. Though sometimes he did still act as a child.

Now Stiles is looking after him, tending his wounds and ensuring he’s okay. Their roles have been reversed, and he finds that he doesn’t mind being looked after by Stiles. Much.

As Stiles begins to apply the cream, twinges of pain ricochet throughout his body. Derek lets out an irritated whine, squirming away from the touch.

“Jeez, Derek. Is there actually anywhere that  _doesn't_ hurt?” Stiles snaps, sitting back on his legs.

Slowly, Derek points to the tip of his left elbow, eyes watching Stiles’ face, looking for a reaction. “Here.”

Just as slow, Stiles shuffles closer, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the same spot. His lips linger, feeling soft and plush, before sitting back up again.

Warmth spreads throughout Derek’s body, a pleasant feeling despite his injuries. Stiles grabs a damp cloth, brushing it along Derek’s forehead where it has dotted with perspiration.

“Here.” Derek murmurs, pointing to the centre of the newly washed skin.

At the direction, Stiles sits up further, moving right into his space.

Tenderly, he anchors Derek’s head in his broad palms before touching his lips to Derek’s forehead. The air is rife with anticipation, and Derek can see Stiles’ amber eyes molten with it, burning into Derek’s own.

Aside from the rush of the ocean, the room is silent.

Next, Derek points to his right eyelid, sighing softly as Stiles moves down to that spot. “Here.”

Uncharacteristically gentle, Stiles touches his lips to the very same place, warm breath puffing against Derek’s tender skin.

It could have been minutes or hours before Stiles pulls back again, now sitting on the tops of Derek’s thighs, practically straddling him.

Briefly, Derek’s gaze flickers down to Stiles’ full lips and across his flushed cheeks, before settling on his big, bright eyes. 

Tension is thick in the air, buzzing between the two of them almost like a tangible thing. Their faces drift closer to one another, not yet touching, holding back from what they want the most.

When Derek can’t stand the wait any longer, he presses his finger against his lips, heartbeat ratcheting higher and higher with every passing second. “Here.” He says, voice gruff.

With a groan, Stiles pushes himself forward, slotting his mouth against Derek’s in a hungry kiss. As each minute passes, the kisses get hotter, needier, and even hungrier, if Derek thought that was even possible.

The pain is put to the back of his mind, too focused on Stiles’ touches. His mind lingers on the warmth that seeps into his skin, the run of Stiles’ hands over his shoulders, and the pleased sounds made in the back of his slender throat.

Soon, Derek begins to feel dizzy, kisses becoming languid with the growing heaviness in his limbs. Stiles pulls back, moving his hands to Derek’s face as his own scrunches up in concern.

“Derek?” Stiles asks, his voice laced with worry. He moves back a little bit, offering Derek some space before looking down at the cuts across the scrapes and bruises littering the larger man’s ribs.

Unable to speak, Derek falls backwards on to the pile of cushions. He’s just conscious for long enough to hear Stiles sigh, speaking into the otherwise quiet room. 

“It all seems to be working against us.”

***

**Author's Note:**

> I changed some of the lines so they weren't an exact replica of the movie, though the word "here" remains the same, obviously.
> 
> Please comment and Kudos.
> 
> Let me know if there's anything I need to tag/reclassify, thanks!
> 
> Talk to me on [Tumblr](http://ragged-flagons.tumblr.com/)


End file.
